| My phone is dead, don’t text me
|
| Should’ve known you’d break my heart right when you met me
|
| Now I’m over it
|
| Now I’m used to this
|
| Feel like gucci bitch
|
| Yeah, I’m so sick of this
|
| I drop bars like nukes
|
| Drop bombs like it’s m dub 2
|
| Bitch, who the fuck are you?
|
| 'Cause I don’t got a clue
|
| I can’t get to trippin' over bitches like you
|
| I’mma write all night till my hands get tired
|
| Like she’s a liar, I can’t believe I liked her
|
| I need a lighter, I need a drink
|
| I don’t need the alcohol but I don’t wanna think
|
| My phone is dead, don’t text me
|
| Should’ve known you’d break my heart right when you met me
|
| Now I’m over it
|
| Now I’m used to this
|
| Feel like gucci bitch
|
| Yeah, I’m so sick of this
|
| I smoke now, I get high
|
| I get wasted, to get by
|
| I’m so fucked up, I still cry
|
| I don’t miss you tho, I guess I’m alright
|
| At least the drugs work
|
| At least my songs bang
|
| At least my mom’s good
|
| At least her rent’s paid
|
| At least my love life, isn’t sideways
|
| My heart’s broken but my phones on vibrate
|
| My phone is dead, don’t text me
|
| Should’ve known you’d break my heart right when you met me
|
| Now I’m over it
|
| Now I’m used to this
|
| Feel like gucci bitch
|
| Yeah, I’m so sick of this
|
| My phone is dead, don’t text me
|
| Should’ve known you’d break my heart right when you met me
|
| Now I’m over it
|
| Now I’m used to this
|
| Feel like gucci bitch
|
| Yeah, I’m so sick of this
|
| Phone died, feelings died like Myspace
|
| Hundred texts, no reply, no time mate
|
| Are you good Nate? |
| Lie and say I’m great
|
| But fuck that, I wanna die like everyday |